221 C Baker Street
by Emma-Lestrade
Summary: The Great Detective and The Good Doctor meet the tenants of 221 C Baker Street who maybe just as interesting as they are.  Holmes/OC and Watson/OC eventually
1. Breakfast at Baker Street

Disclaimer: Don't own "The Great Detective" or "The Good Doctor", just borrowing them for a bit. Though you will probably not get them back in the same condition they were loaned out in.

Cecily Morgan and Mickayla Richter are mine though feel free to borrow if you like them. Will take them back in any condition found.

No flames plz, only constructive criticism. (Praise will be accepted too.)

Thanks! Enjoy!

* * *

3 am 221 C Baker Street

BANG! BANG! BANG!, a muffled "damn!", and then CRASH! CLANG! BOOM!, can be heard from the other side of the upstairs parlor.

Ears perked I wait for the next sound, this one will be more pleasant, after only three weeks of sharing these rooms with my dear friend Mickayla Richter, I know what comes next…the violin.

My hours have changed quite a bit since we took these rooms.

I listen for a while in silence the haunting playing stirring me, moving me to shut my eyes and do aught but listen.

In what seem like moments the clock chimes; only to tell me that an hour has past since the noise ended and the melodious violin began to play.

A muffled voice from the other side of the wall can now be heard to yell "Holmes!"

I find myself smiling, fore it is not the first time I have hear this word yelled.

According to our landlady, "Holmes!" is non-other than famous detective Sherlock Holmes and the man who so often does the yelling in the middle of the night is his loyal friend and colleague Dr. John Watson.

Since moving to 221 C Baker St, Kayla and I have come to know them by sight and sound, but have yet to be introduced to either gentleman.

I turn my head toward the door at the sound of a soft chuckle; there stands my dear friend and flat mate Mickayla.

It doesn't surprise me that she is awake. Mickayla is an actress and keeps hours quite similar to our detective neighbor next door.

As she enters the room I find that she has a large breakfast tray in her hands.

There is much more food on it that the pair of us will be able to consume ourselves

I questioningly raise my eyebrows at her.

Kayla smiles at me and says "If we have to go though this every morning, we may as well have for breakfast and finally meet properly.

Not that Kayla would know anything about proper introductions in the first place.

I nod my assent and hurry to my room to put on a day dress.

Upon returning to the parlor; I find the fire stoked, the breakfast things set out on the table, and Mickayla engaged in opening the window!

"What are you doing?" I ask her

"Going to go ask our neighbors to breakfast." replies she, as if it's the most obvious thing in the world.

"And what, pray, is wrong with the front door?" I inquire of her

"The housekeeper here and probably over there are still trying to sleep, it is four o'clock in the morning after all." she says to me as if I were a small child

As I watch her climb out the window and onto the ledge of the building, half of me cheerfully hope's that she falls and breaks her neck, but only half of me.

A moment later I can hear her rap upon the neighbors' window.

I hear it open and then quite clearly hear, "Yes Miss Richter is there something can help you with?"

As if it were the most natural thing in the world to this man to have some strange woman hanging on a ledge and rapping upon his window at four o'clock in the morning!

A different voice can now be heard to utter, "Good God, Holmes! Hadn't you better invite the lady in before she breaks her neck out there!"

What a sensible man Dr. Watson is.

"No, thank you Dr. Watson!" I hear Mickayla call to him and then next hear her say, "Good morning to you, Mr. Holmes. My flat mate Miss Cecily Morgan and I were wondering if you and Dr. Watson would care to join us for breakfast."

"Delighted to dear lady, come Watson!" I hear "Holmes" reply

A few seconds more and Kayla is climbing back into our flat followed by Mr. Holmes and what appears to be a very disgruntled Dr. Watson.

I move to the window to be of assistance, neither Kayla nor Mr. Holmes requires it, but the disgruntled Dr. Watson looks as if he would welcome my aid.

I immediately provide it.

"Thank you." Dr. Watson says to me, and then turns to glare at "Holmes"

"Would you care for some tea or coffee?" I ask "Watson" trying to distract him from his apparent displeasure

"If it doesn't inconvenience you, Miss Morgan I believe, tea would be splendid." Dr. Watson replies

"I doubt, Miss Morgan would ask if it were an inconvenience to her, Watson." "Holmes" remarks dryly

It's my turn to shoot this annoying man a look as I pour Dr. Watson's tea.

"What gives you that idea, Mr. Holmes?" I ask letting a slight edge slip into my voice

"Quite simple, Miss Morgan, you are an American and Americans rarely do anything that puts them out of there way." Mr. Holmes replies quite matter of factually

"I fail to see the logic you are using, Mr. Holmes, I may be an American, but my mother brought me up with better manners than not to offer a guest in my home the thing which he has been invited for. Furthermore, sir, you should not go around making conclusions about someone you don't know solely on their place of birth." I tell him haughtily whilst handing Dr. Watson his tea

I notice that Mickayla is enjoying all of this, tea in hand. I watch her pour a cup for Mr. Sherlock Holmes while trying very hard not to burst out laughing.

I hope she and he both choke on their tea!

"Allow me to pour your cup, Miss Morgan." Dr. Watson gently says

"If you wish Dr. Watson, coffee please." I respond, I rarely drink tea before noon and this poor man has no way of knowing it without me saying so

"And please call me, Cecily." I tell him

"Then I insist that you call me, John." "John" replies pouring my coffee going on to ask, "Milk, sugar, or both in your coffee?"

"Two lumps of sugar and a little milk will be fine, thank you "John". I reply a little awkwardly

"Since were done being formal, why don't you gentleman just help yourselves to breakfast." Mickayla says to our guests

She is really enjoying this way too much.

Since there are no chairs at the table where Kayla had set the breakfast things, we each serve ourselves breakfast and sit informally wherever we choose.

Mickayla sits on the rug near the fireplace hearth, John and I share the sofa, and "the annoying man", otherwise known as Sherlock Holmes, sits in the very chair that I sat in earlier this morning listening to his gun shots and violin playing.

I really have no idea how a man who plays such wonderful music could be so infuriating!

* * *

Author's Note: The Sherlock Holmes I have depicted is a mixture of two "Holmeses'" portrayed by Actors Jeremy Brett and Robert Downey Jr. Both excellent portrayers of "The Great Detective". Dr. Watson is also portrayed by a mixture of the two Actors Jude Law and both do "The Good Doctor" admirably in my opinion. Don't either actors or characters, so no lawsuits please.


	2. A Revealing Picnic Lunch

Chapter Two is up! Sorry for the wait for those who like this, but my two year old is sick and i've been job hunting.

New Disclaimer!: I don't own the New York Post or The London Times, just borrowing them for jobs for character no offense is meant, don't sue.

As always Holmes and Watson aren't mine *Sigh* No lawsuits plz.

* * *

Ever since our initial breakfast introduction some weeks ago, I have found myself elected (unwillingly) to the post of verbal sparing partner to Mr. Sherlock Holmes.

The insufferable man seems to take great delight in provoking me. I wish I knew the reason for his acting like an obnoxious bore.

He has a sound and capable mind, when he plays the Stradivarius I am half way to being in love and could weep.

He has also kept the habit of climbing through the window instead of the safer path of the front door. Thankfully John does not follow him in this and does the sensible thing to make use of the doors.

I have come home from my job as "the only female reporter" at The London Times newspaper office for lunch, though to say the truth I had left some of my notes here for a story that will be featured and will probably make use of my type writer throughout lunch.

When I say I am "the only female reporter" at The Times I am telling the truth, there are other ladies that work there, but they are columnists, secretaries, maids, and char-women.

The columnists who work for the paper write such things as recipes, good housekeeping tips, gossip columns, and the latest in fashion.

I am a report, much the way Sherlock is a detective are jobs are actually very similar we both look for and discover the truth and get dirty doing it.

I don't sit at the office waiting for information about a story to come to me like the columnist ladies do, no like any male reporter I go out there, research, and get the end result for myself.

On top of which I have to be twice as good as the male reports just to be considered worth employing. But that is nothing new to me I had the same experience when I worked for the New York Post in America.

None of my stories have ever been about Sherlock Holmes.

As I set to work at my type writer, which is stationed here in the upstairs parlor, I hear what sounds like scurrying; I feel the sudden need to inwardly scream because this sound has come to mean that someone (Mickayla or Sherlock) is about to climb into the parlor through the window.

In through the window clambers Mr. Sherlock Holmes. I had not thought it to be Mickayla for I know that at this time of day she is at the playhouse rehearsing or still abed.

This is why I am resisting the urge to scream.

"Ah, good afternoon to you, Miss Morgan." he says to me

"Good afternoon, sir." I reply a little tersely as I am trying to work

"Would you care to take lunch with me?" Holmes asks me

"I had planned to work through my lunch, Mr. Holmes. I need to finish this story before the deadline at 4 O' Clock this evening so it can be put in tomorrow's paper and as it is 1 O' Clock now you can see where I am pressed for time." I tell him without rancor

"May I see what you have so far?" Mr. Holmes requests

"I don't know of what interest it may be, its not one of my better pieces, but you're the detective not I." I reply allowing him to see the finished papers

"Your right, it is not one of your better pieces." he says to me

"You've read some of my pieces?" I squawk incredulously

"Indeed, you may be the finest reporter on staff at The London Times to date." Holmes says slyly smiling at my astonishment of his notice

"You write under a male pseudonym, so as to be taken seriously by the public as you did in New York." Holmes goes on to say

"Am I one of your clients Mr. Holmes or are you put out that none of my stories have been any of your cases?" I ask Sherlock facetiously

"My dear lady, I have no vanity of any kind regarding that and it will take you no more than a half hour to finish that particular piece." "So come sit and take lunch with me." says he authoritatively

"If you insist, pray Mr. Holmes, what are we having for luncheon?" I acquiesce

A steady reassuring sort of laugh emits from the gentleman in question, as he laughs I come out from behind my type writer.

As I round the sofa I find that a picnic style lunch has been spread on the rug in front of the fireplace. I can't help but wonder how he managed this without my noticing for it was not there I am certain when I entered the room.

Paradoxically if this had been lain out by any other man but Sherlock Holmes I may think this some sort of romantic setup.

But that would be the most absurd thing in the world, the man barely tolerates most women and certainly (according to John) has never had any romantic designs on the opposite sex.

So I shall endeavor to think myself safe.

I had not thought him to be a talkative man at meal time, nor honestly at any other time, but he surprises me yet again. It shall probably not be the last time he does so either.

Our respective plates dished, oddly enough serving each other, he begins with, "You would not make a bad amateur detective, Morgan."

When the devil did I become "Morgan"! Is that akin to being like John, "Watson"?

"Coming from you, Mr. Holmes, I suppose I should take that as a compliment." I reply cattily

Dear Lord! There is something about this man that always seems to put me on either the offensive or the defensive!

"I don't give compliments; Watson can easily tell you as much, I am merely stating a fact. To be perfectly frank you do quite a bit better than most of those employed at Scotland Yard." "Holmes" states simply

"Well, then it's a nice fact. I thank you for stating it, sir" I tell him with a slight blush upon my cheeks

"You are wrong you know." he says suddenly

"About it being a nice fact?" I ask startled

"No, about never having covered any of my cases in The Times. You simply did not know it was my case you were covering." responds he

"Really? I ask which one?"

"A few weeks ago you made the front page with it." he replies without actually stating the case itself

"Oh I remember that, should have known that Scotland Yard couldn't find their way around a mulberry bush let alone a case like that." I reply remembering my astonishment that Scotland Yard had caught the culprit

Sherlock looks at me with astonishment and laughs the same steady reassuring sort of earlier.

"So you don't think much of our English police, do you?" he asks looking highly amused

"I don't think much of police in general, sir. The American police seem to be just as ineffective as the English Scotland Yard." But we have no Sherlock Holmes, so undoubtedly many a criminal is not caught and many an innocent man sent in their place." I remark to him

"You are a most fascinating woman, Miss Morgan. You are a delightful contradiction of parts; that make you most keenly interesting and worth knowing." my picnic partner tells me

"You find me fascinating, sir, in what way and how am I a contradiction of parts to incite interest and be worthy of notice?" I ask flattered and perplexedly

"You possess an intelligence that I rarely see in the fairer sex, in your quest for the truth you dig up the ugly side just as I do. This dear lady makes you worth knowing." He tells me

"But that is only half an answer, pray, what is the other half Mr. Holmes, how am I such an interesting and fascinating woman?" I prod impatiently

"To start with you are an American reporter who relocated to England, yet you were born an aristocratic lady, with an innate sense of pride and propriety rarely seen in Americans." Mr. Holmes begins with

"Aside from the fact that I am being judged by my country of birth yet again, sir, will you tell me how you know these facts you've just put before me." I interrupt

"It will be a lengthy explanation of your first question, if I pause to explain my reasons for knowing what I do about you, but as I see you are undeterred in this I shall bear this one interruption on the understand that I will pause after each observation if you do not interrupt again." Detective Holmes now stipulates

"Agreed readily." I reply

"As to my knowing you to being an American reporter that is easily done away with, I had taken an interest in some of the pieces you had written for The London Times and upon some little inquiry found you were an American woman, who had previously work for The New York post before coming to London and under the same pseudonym." spoke he thus

A single glance from him tells me that he was waiting to see if I will hold up my end of the bargain and not interrupt as I have promised.

I hold my tongue and wait with not a little interest in what he is about to reveal next.

"I know that you were born an aristocrat with an innate sense of pride and propriety from some your own manners and way of carrying yourself. I observed that when Watson and I came climbing in through the parlor window you seemed rather anxious that no one should be injured and took the trouble of offering Watson tea to shield me form his ire. This told me that you possessed common sense and courtesy and a proper hostess.

But your sense of pride was prick when I made the passing comment to Watson that you would not have bothered if it were any real trouble to you.

You proceeded to give me a sound tongue lashing for my words and this is where you became the object of true interest.

When you turned your attention back to Watson who offered to pour your own cup, you were as mild as cheese and gave him leave to call you by your christian name.

You then hesitated in the use of his christian name even though he had done you the same courtesy you had just given him; here I observed the propriety of a lady. And when you took your cup from I had a better chance to observe that while you do work as a reporter; your fingers are tapered and your wrists have delicate fine bone of the upper crust." he explains to me

I blink in surprise finding it difficult to believe that so much can be reveal about me within only a few minutes of being in the same room with someone.

I confess I am mildly impressed by all this.

"I surprise you." he says to me

I nod to this statement as I have given my promise not to interrupt.

Holmes smiles and asks, "Cigarette?"

Here I am obliged to speak, I reply with, "Thank you, yes please."

The Picnicking Detective draws out a handsome cigarette case, proceeds to open, and draw out two cigarettes. He hands me my cigarette, draws a match box out of his pocket, lights my cigarette, and then his own.

"As to my finding you to be a contradiction of parts that is my own personal observation, I find it thus for these reasons:

1) You are an American aristocrat who has chosen a life well below her station.

2) You have chosen the field of a reporter as your calling and in some small measure have found away into the detective field in this profession.

3) While you enjoy the theater and seeing your friend act you also enjoy lower establishments such as the boxing hall and have come to see me fight and place bets at regular intervals

4) Your easy manners make you free with people of gentle manners like Watson and formal propriety keeps you from being easy around people like me; hence the reason you call Watson by John and refuse to call me Sherlock." "These are my top reasons for finding you so fascinating.", Sherlock explains in full to me

I am appropriately stunned by everything he has said, it is all true and I can plainly see the mischievous smile on his face. He knows he is correct an that I am impressed.

Smug bastard.

"Bravo, Sherlock." I say quietly, "You have completely taken me unawares and gained my admiration. I am duly impressed, but not for the reasons you may think, I will leave you to puzzle them out. Now I must finish my piece so I may get it in on time for the morning addition," "Thank you for this most revealing picnic."


	3. The Stink Bomb and Mycroft Holmes

Thank you to everyone who has been patiently awaiting this chapter. I shall be trying very hard to post the next chapter in a day or two to make up for the lateness of this one.

Need votes for one of two play that maybe featured in next chap:

1) An Ideal Husband

2) The Importance of Being Ernest

Thanks for the continued support and patients, i post next chapter as soon as i can figure out which play is better or you can lol THANKS!

* * *

"Beelzebub and Nightshade!", I exclaim upon walking into John and Sherlock's parlor, "Why in the name of Heaven does it smell like an embalming chamber in here? Has someone die and been left to rot?"

"One of Holmes's experiments I'm afraid, Cecily." John says to me

"What is he trying to do? Figure out how much stench people can handle before they clear a room or faint?" I ask incredulously

"I'm not sure what the point of the experiment is, but your right about the smell." John replies

"Good Lord, open a widow Dr. Watson or we'll be forced to leave the house!" cries Mrs. Hudson upon entering the room

"Gladly!" exclaims John as he rushes to the window

I quickly walk to the window and join John in sticking my head out it to get some fresh air. Lord but it does smell like death in there.

"Where is the mad alchemist anyway?" I ask John

"I don't know, it's not like him to leave one of his experiments like that. Though he does have a habit of disappearing into thin air." John tells me

"Why are you two hanging half way out of the window in that fashion?" we hear the voice of the "mad alchemist" ask from below us on the street

"Trying to escape the poisoning stench of one of your experiments!" I call down angrily looking at him with no little glare upon my face

"Good Greif Sherlock!" cries an older gentleman next to him "Is it always your custom to shout at young ladies leaning out windows trying to escape the toxins of one of your stink bombs?"

"Only when I want to know why said young lady and my colleague are hanging out the window in the first place Mycroft." I hear Sherlock return mildly as they make their way to the front door

"It is safe now Dr. Watson, Miss Morgan." Mrs. Hudson voice calls from inside

"Thank you, Mrs. Hudson." John says while assisting me back into the upstairs parlor of 221 B Baker Street

Coming up the stairs we hear Sherlock and the gentleman called Mycroft. What they are talking about is not to be made out but it sounds slightly like Mycroft is admonishing Sherlock for lack of propriety in yelling up at a lady in a window.

"Morgan, was clearly yelling back Mycroft so I fail to see why I am the only one being brought to task on the matter." Sherlock states to Mycroft as they enter the room

"I am not Miss Morgan's brother, but yours Sherlock. It is also highly improper and rude of you to refer to the lady by her last name without the perfunctory Miss attached." Mycroft replies authoritatively

Now I see where Sherlock gets it form, hmm I didn't know that he has an older brother, will wonders never cease.

"Ah, Watson I see you found my experiment then." Sherlock says to John

"I think Mr. Mycroft Holmes had the right of it when he called it a stink bomb." I reply for John slightly severe

"You have gotten me into trouble Miss Cecily Morgan, I don't know if I care to speak to you at the moment." replies the now pouting detective

A chuckle emits from Mr. Mycroft Holmes.

"Never mind him my dear, he always gets like that when he's been caught with his hand in the cookie jar." Mycroft says to me

"It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance Mr. Holmes." I reply charmingly

"Mycroft Holmes at your service, Miss Morgan I believe my brother just said." Mycroft introduces himself

"Sherlock tells me you work The London Times Miss Morgan and that your quite good, high praise indeed coming from my little brother." Mycroft goes on to say to me

"High praise indeed sir, if he speaks of me to his family." I reply

"Since your brother is not speaking to me at the moment sir, perhaps you would care to take his place in the invitation I came here to issue to he and Dr. Watson." I say prettily

"What invitation is that, Miss Morgan? You didn't have a chance to ask what with Holmes's stink bomb and all." John asks joining the conversation

"Mickayla's play opens tonight and I came to ask if you and Mr. Holmes would care to accompany me to it, then share at late dinner at the Ox and Lamb with us afterward Dr." I say now issuing the invitation that brought me to the stink filled room in the first place

"Well, Sherlock?" asks Mycroft Holmes, "Do you intend to persist in acting like a petulant child or shall you answer the lady's lovely invitation, for I am almost tempted to take your place as she has invited me to."

"HUMPH!", the petulant child responds to his brother, "She does not really wish your company brother Mycroft she is only making sport to ferret me out and into going with her and Watson."

"Dr. Watson has not made any indication of assent or dissent to my invitation, Mr. Sherlock Holmes and are you coming or not!" I demand of Sherlock

"Of course I'm coming, the chance to watch Mickayla at work isn't something I'd pass up and no doubt we shall all be very hungry afterwards." John contradicts me

"Wonderful, I cry, one enthusiastic and hungry doctor down, one smug detective who needs and attitude adjustment to go!"

This very pointed remark sets Mycroft to laughing, a harsh raspy sound that startles the daylights out of me. Sherlock, trying not to start laughing himself, sees my reaction to his brother's laugh and can no longer contain his own. Sherlock's steady reassuring laugh sets my nerves to right, although I can admit to being annoyed at him laughing at me in the first place.

"I am pleased to find myself so amusing." I say somewhat tartly

"Come now Morgan, there is no need to be vexed, you clearly meant to provoke a response with that comment and you have gotten it." Sherlock chides me

"It was not to find myself the butt of a joke I can assure you, Mr. Sherlock Holmes." I return waspishly

"Forgive me for laughing dear lady, but your remark was highly amusing to me because it was so honest a critic of what my brother's character can be like." Mycroft says trying to soothe my wounded ego

"Thank you, Mr. Holmes., I return with more composure, your brother often has the curious affect of setting my teeth on edge."

"I don't doubt it, my dear. He's always been like that, no tact whatsoever when it comes to the fairer sex or anybody else for that matter." Mycroft replies understandingly

"Well Sherlock, says he now turning to his brother, I shall leave you to your delightful engagement and expect to see you tomorrow for lunch."

"Good-bye brother Mycroft 'til tomorrow around one then." Sherlock says taking leave of his brother

"Good-evening to you Dr. do try to contain my brother's roguish tongue if you can." Mycroft says to John

"Good bye sir and I shall do my best." John replies cordially

"And a very good evening to you Miss Cecily Morgan, it has been a delight to meet the young lady who can so easily go toe to toe with my younger brother." Mycroft says cheerfully to me

"Good bye, Mr. Holmes. I reply, I hope that you will be in town a while longer so that I may have the honor of introducing my friend Miss Mickayla Richter to you."

"I look forward to it my dear, if she's anything like you I'm sure she will make delightful company. Pray the two of you join Sherlock and me for lunch tomorrow and I will be happy to make her acquaintance then, bring yourself along to Dr. Watson.", Mycroft invites taking his leave of the three of us without waiting for John's reply


End file.
